


Curatio

by neonfart



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Talon Lena "Tracer" Oxton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonfart/pseuds/neonfart
Summary: Can one broken soul heal another?





	1. Sanitatem

“Se lever! Nous avons une mission.”

 

“Urgh come on love, would it kill you to let me sleep for five more minutes?!” A groggy voice spoke up as a short woman pulled her covers over her bed. A huff from the taller woman she couldn’t see and the covers were pulled off of the younger of the two.

 

“Up.” With those words the short haired woman groaned and sat up on her bed, the bed sheets pooling down and covering her lower half, leaving her naked upper body very much visible. The shorter woman’s body was accentuated with a stretch and an equally relaxed and erotic moan as lean muscles moved under bruised, scratched and bitten skin. “You didn’t recall last night.” Were the simple words that followed the action as the taller of the two threw clothes the smirking woman’s way.

 

“I like having your marks on me Widow!” The words, coupled with the British accent that Widowmaker had come to adore, made the Frenchwoman roll her eyes, however she could not hide the amusement in them. A similar game had been played the previous night, and it was clear by the marks covering the British woman’s body, whom the winner had been.”Come on, let’s have a quickie! I know you want to!”

 

“Hmm?” The sniper had hummed, now walking closer to her partner, who sat up on her knees and took the Frenchwoman’s face in her hands leaning in ready to capture her purple tinted lips. “You have ten minutes to get ready Tracer.” The words were spoken in a monotone voice, signifying that the game had ended, much to the brit’s dismay. She didn’t hesitate to pout at the Talon sniper before continuing her morning routine.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Tracer never understood how Widowmaker managed to be functioning this early in the morning. It was currently 5 in the morning, the two of them on a Talon drop ship for two hours now, heading somewhere Tracer hadn’t cared to ask. She had practically slept with her eyes open during the mission briefing Widowmaker had given her, not particularly caring as to what their mission was as long as she got to shoot someone. Her tenacious and often times too irrational nature had been the reason Widowmaker had been assigned as the brit’s partner. Tracer wouldn’t deny that the Frenchwoman was more of a babysitter than a partner, often leading the shorter woman through their mission and making sure she didn’t mess up. With a groan Tracer leaned back and let her head rest against the drop ships metal walls.

 

“How much longer till we’re there love?!” The brit whined out, her leg bouncing in expectation of a fight. “I’m getting bored!”

 

“We aren’t going there for your entertainment chérie.” Widowmaker had said not even sparing the brunette a glance. “However we should be there by now.” She added and as if on cue the flashing of the red light signalizing that the ship was landing started up. Tracer stood with a smirk stretching her limbs out and she was out of the ship the second it’s rear access ramp opened. Before she could react she heard a gunshot and then everything turned black.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Light blinded her when she opened her eyes her ears ringing in a deafening pitch. Closing her eyes with a groan and then opening them again, slowly this time, Tracer started to make out basic shapes and sounds. The first things she saw was medical equipment, heart rate monitor; she figured out that was where the annoying beeping in her ears was coming from pretty fast, an iv bag connected to her hand probably, needles resting on a wooden table. Slowly dragging her eyes across the room she was in she noticed just how all the brand new equipment was out of place. The room was big enough to fit the singular bed, a wooden table, a single chair accompanying it and the trashcan at the far corner of the room. Tracer groaned, a headache splitting her head, making to reach for her it when she noticed that handcuffs kept her chained to the bed. Trying to breaks the cuffs by brute force only served to hurt the woman’s wrists, the insistent tries for half an hour leaving them cut and bloody. With a huff of anger she opened her mouth to yell out only to hear a clicking sound and a door opening.

 

“Widow love what’s going on?”

 

“Be quiet.”

 

“Widowmaker why is she here?”

 

“I told you to be quiet.”

 

“Amélie!”

 

Tension in the room grew thick enough to cut with a knife. Widowmaker had visibly tensed at the name, eyebrows furrowing in a warning. She huffed and walked to the corner of the room, crossing her arms as she leaned on the wall and eyed the cuffed woman’s hands.

 

“Honestly, why must you act like such an animal?” The Frenchwoman asked with a displeased frown but only received an angry grunt from Tracer. “Well you’re a doctor aren’t you?! Faites votre travail et aidez-la!” Widowmaker said, her voice clearly annoyed, to the third person in the room, who till now had remained quiet.

 

“Hello Le-“ The doctor cut herself off, her eyes traveling to Widowmaker’s for a bit before she turned to the brit once again and spoke after clearing her throat. “Hello Tracer.” She began noticing that the short haired woman clearly didn’t enjoy the slip-up, just as the sniper now hiding in the shadow of the corner of the room, eyes practically glowing yellow as she watched her intently, had said. “I’m going to take off your handcuffs now, we just needed to make sure you didn’t try and escape when we weren’t around.” The doctor said with a small reassuring smile. Tracer had simply grumbled at her with distaste, cursing her out in slang the Swiss doctor didn’t understand or rather, chose to ignore. The cuffs hadn’t even been released from the doctor’s hands when Tracers fist met her face.

 

“Tracer.” The name was spoken in a threatening tone, although the Frenchwoman who had said them hadn’t moved from her spot.

 

“No! You don’t get to talk _Amélie_!” Tracer yelled as she turned around pointing a finger at the Frenchwoman in accusation. “I can’t believe you! You sold me out to _Overwatch_?! What?! Did they catch you and so in turn you decided to trade me in for your own life?!” The brit yelled stalking closer to the stoic sniper. “You cold fuckin’ bitch! I gave you _everything_ and you still can’t help but _betray_ me!” She screamed at the Frenchwoman, right up in her face, but no matter how hard she tried to will them away tears streamed down the shorter woman’s face.

 

“I’m doing this to _help_ you chérie!” Widowmaker said her tone just as stoic as usual, hiding the guilt at the brit’s tears.

 

“No! _You_ want to help _her_! Your sweet, innocent _Lena_ is dead _Amélie_!” Tracer bawled, laughing miserably at the shock she had managed to get from the French assassin. “What? Did you think I’d _forget_? How you lured me in with fake promises of love! How you looked at me after we met Emily that time?” The brit smirked at the sadness slowly creeping up on Widowmaker’s eyes. “At first it was hard! Remembering that is…I didn’t want to! I didn’t pay any mind to the memories of New Years with Emily, to the first time she and I met, to how _jealous_ you were, to how much you used to _love_ me, to the time we first met on the battle field! I was happy just being around you but those damned thoughts just _wouldn’t go away_.” Tracer said her tone bitter as she looked down. “And yet I endured it. I endured the hatred you had for what I am, how you refused to kiss me, how you refused to even sleep in the same bed as me!” The brit looked up at Widowmaker again with a look of rage. “And what do I get in return? I get to be _fixed_ by some self appointed angel and a guilt ridden lover who can’t even look at me in the eyes anymore.” Widowmaker closed her eyes, taking a quick shallow breath through her nose, the words ringing true to her ears. “I don’t need to be _fixed_ love! Please let’s just…go. If you don’t want to go back to Talon we can just leave! Hide out till the waters are calm! Just you and me! Please! It’ll be like before!” Tracer bargained, Widowmaker looking up from the ground to give the brit a kiss on the forehead.

 

“S'il vous plaît, allez dormer.” Widowmaker whispered receiving a pained sob from Tracer as she closed her eyes, body falling limp in the Frenchwoman’s arms. Widowmaker looked up at the doctor with a frown, her golden eyes pleading. “I’ll give you whatever information you need, just help her Angela.”

 

She received a nod in return.


	2. Salutaris

She hadn’t expected her feelings to change, but then again who does? Who would be able to predict that someone you despise could turn into the person whose affection you crave the most. A soft melancholic laugh echoed through the night sky as a lone figure stood hunched over, her hands on her knees as her breath slowly normalized itself. The rooftop she was on was dark and empty save the sky blue light emanating from the machine strapped on the short girls chest. She closed her eyes, her mind and heart racing. Immediately her mind fills with cold, yet gentle caresses, soft kisses, a loving and passionate golden gaze. The young British woman giggled to herself akin to an excited school girl who had just had her first kiss. Technically it had been their first kiss, soft blue tinted lips slowly meshing with her own pink ones, and it made the orange clad woman’s heart flutter. Even with her eyes now open images of a certain Frenchwoman didn’t shy away from her mind. Amélie smiling. Amélie laughing. Amélie intertwining their fingers. Amélie kissing her. Emily crying.

 

Emily.

 

She doesn’t stop the heavy weight of her guilt that pushes her to fall on her knees. How could she do it? How could she betray Emily’s trust like that?! A hand came up to clench an aching, conscience-stricken heart only to be stopped by the metal of the machine keeping her in this reality. Tears well up in the brit’s eyes, her mind wandering to the days Emily would spend waiting for her to return to their reality, the way she accepted and worked through their problems, the love the other woman gave her. And she had ruined it all. She had dared to break the heart of the most loving woman she had met. Tears now fell freely as she let her head hang in shame strings of apologies, most through broken sobs, fell from the woman’s mouth directed to no one in particular. Then she notices it. Buzzing coming from her pocket. Her phone was ringing. Soon enough it stopped. She sat back, leaning on the roof entrance brick wall as she brought the phone up to her ear after having accepted the call from the private number. She knows who it is already.

 

“Hey…” The brit says, not managing to keep the break in her voice hidden in such a short word.

 

“Pleures-tu?” The French somehow seemed to slowly calm the brit down. No point in trying to hide it now.

 

“Yeah…” She answered softly, having picked up some French in her time with the deadly assassin on the other end of the line.

 

“Je suis désolé.” The voice sounded genuine and just as the brit was about to protest, the Frenchwoman added. “I know how much she means to you chérie and I won’t ask you to choose between us, however we need to talk about this.” A soft sigh of agreement came from the younger of the two. “Good meet me in an hour, you know where. À plus tard Lena.” And just like that the line dropped. Another sigh escaped pink lips before the brunette closed her eyes again, letting the back of her head rest against the wall as her eyes looked up at the night sky, the moon shining down on her in judgment. She wasn’t going to go home tonight, not until she could come to terms with what had happened. That was the main reason she had agreed to meet Amélie  in the first place, sure that talking it out would help the brunette. With a reluctant groan Lena stood, dusting herself off and making her way to the meeting spot.

 

“Were you trying to go for emotional turmoil?” Lena had said with a small chuckle in an attempt to lighten up the heavy mood set between the two of them. She and the French sniper stood on a rooftop, looking down at the statue of an all too familiar to the both of them omnic.

 

“I was trying to go with the ‘remember when I almost killed you’ vibe but I guess that works too.” Amélie had said with a small chuckle turning to look at her partner, hiding the displeasure at the puffy eyes the brit sported. “I’m so sorry Lena…” She had said making the shorter woman tilt her head curiously.

 

“No, it was all my fault…” Taking a deep breath Lena continued. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, you did nothing wrong.”

 

“I think I did everything wrong chérie.” The words were almost whispered, making Lena reach to place a comforting hand on Amélie’s shoulder only to feel rough hands grab her own. Reacting quickly Lena keeled; slipping out of the men’s grasps, before standing up and hitting one in the face with the butt of her pulse pistols and shooting the other’s leg. Before long she noticed they were surrounded by men, all dressed in black Talon’s red and white insignia on their arms. Swiftly turning around she was met Amélie’s gun barrel. Then it all made sense and she felt her body go numb. She was kicked behind her knees, forced to kneel as soldiers pointed guns around her. She didn’t care, she felt hollow, the only emotion on her face as she looked up at Widowmaker being one of betrayal.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Avez-vous eu un cauchemar?” A sweating Tracer snapped her head to the dark corner of the room from where the voice had come from making contact with golden eyes. She looked at the Frenchwoman with a scowl not offering a response. In fact it had been almost a week since she’s said _anything_. She groaned her body feeling heavy as she laid back down from her sitting position on the bed, huffing at the sweaty sheets that greeted her. With the medicine Angela had given her Tracer had been sweating like crazy for five days straight, her body slowly getting rid of all the chemicals that Talon had pumped into it. A side effect of that had been the ‘nightmares’ that plagued the brit every single night. While it was true that Tracer remembered her past before, it had been bits and pieces, speculations and theories, but now, now everything was flooding back in and it was driving the woman crazy. “Do you want me to change your sheets?” Widowmaker had asked bringing Tracer out of her thoughts. Quietly she stood up from the bed, thankful for the chair right next to it, her body aching as she sat down. She felt useless in this state, barely being able to move, her mind a mess. Without any words exchanged between them Widowmaker changed the sheets and stepped back to let the other get in bed. A hiss and then strong arms wrapping around a frail body. “I’m sorry…” A soft whisper, almost scared, was spoken into her hair. Tracer looked down, the cool feeling of Widowmaker’s cold skin against her hot back a welcome feeling.

 

“No, you’re not…” Tracer’s voice came out weak and groggy, a side effect of refusing to speak for a whole month.

 

“I am…I’m the reason you’re like this…” The pity in Widowmaker’s voice made Tracer yank herself off the Frenchwoman’s grip, stumbling on the bed using her hands to keep herself from falling face first into the mattress. Widowmaker looked down at her with a soft frown before sighing and pushing the other woman making her fall face first on the bed. As she was going to raise her head to protest Widowmaker kept it still with a hand to the back of her neck. With a groan Tracer’s attempts to get up were unfruitful as Widowmaker pressed her palm on the woman’s neck. Her protest quickly died down as the Frenchwoman’s hands started kneading her skin. To say Tracer’s muscles were tense would be an understatement as the sniper found knot after knot. When Widowmaker had told Tracer to lay down more comfortably on the bed she hadn’t protested quickly following the request however when she felt the prick of a needle against the crook of her neck she growled in anger. “You need to keep up with your medication.”

 

“And you need to stop being such a busybody.” Tracer had said with a huff receiving a sigh in return.

 

“I’m trying to help you.”

 

“Well I don’t need your help!” Tracer had exclaimed sitting up straight, the speed of the action causing her to grow dizzy and fall back into a sitting position on the bed, her head spinning. “I’m not in need of fixing! What happened to me, what you did to me, It all shaped me! Of course I’m not going to be the _Lena_ you knew before this whole ordeal!” Tracer said, her words low but threatening. “I made peace with how I’ve changed but Angela, Overwatch, _you_ treat me like I’m _defective_.” The brit said looking up at Widowmaker with a scowl. “It hurts being thought of as a burden by the one person you care about!”

 

“I’m so-“

 

“Stop saying that! I don’t want your pity! I want you to kiss me and tell me I’m not _broken_!”

 

And just like that their lips meshed in a hungry, angry, longing kiss. A kiss that said more than any words could hope to. Then it’s broken, replaced by a slap to the face leaving the brit stunned.

 

“You think this is any easier for me?!” Tracer had never heard the Frenchwoman raise her voice like that. “Do you know how hard it is to look at the person whose trust you betrayed in the eye every single day and not hate yourself for it?!”

 

“Oh boohoo! You made your choice! You _chose_ to betray me!” Tracer said standing up from the bed giving the other woman a push making her stumble back.

 

“You think I _wanted_ to hurt you? I did it to protect you! You don’t know what Talon was planning to do to you to break you! They were going to kill anyone you held dear!” Widowmaker pushed back making Tracer snap her head to her with an angry scowl and a clenched fist.

 

“You could’ve warned me! We could’ve done something about it!” Tracer yelled back fist flying and landing straight on the Frenchwoman’s face, making her nose immediately start bleeding, the adrenaline running through the brit making her brush off her tiredness.

 

“Oh like you could’ve done anything about it! You couldn’t even save one omnic!” Widowmaker shot back wiping the blood off her nose with the back of her hand and sending her own fist right into Tracer’s stomach making her gasp. Growling at the bitter memory Tracer rushed the other woman pushing her against the wall behind her punching her gut and then her face. Widowmaker growled, having had enough, and kicked the other’s legs out from beneath her making her kneel followed by a knee to the brit’s chin sending her tumbling back. Without wasting any time Widowmaker sat on the other’s hips and grabbed her wrists essentially pinning her beneath her. Their heavy breathing, bloody noses and bruising bodies moved in rhythm as they smashed their mouths together in sloppy kisses and angry bites. When their breathing had become hard both had broken apart from each other’s lips, leaving them panting against each-other’s necks, as Widowmaker hid her face on the crook of Tracer’s neck. The later was slowly coming down from her adrenaline rush, causing her body to shut down into a heaving mess.

 

“I love you.”

 

“Moi aussi.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It had been almost six months since that incident. Widowmaker had disappeared the following day, leaving nothing behind, as if she had never even existed. Tracer hadn’t been surprised when she was told that she had left. The brit had become accustom to Widowmaker disappearing whenever she started to feel something. She supposed it was the Frenchwoman’s way of keeping herself sane. Tracer on the other hand had started fairing much better, she had taken Angela’s medicine regularly and she had learnt to accept her past, her body had started to regenerate as well, no longer in need of Talon’s drugs to keep itself alive. Having fixed her relations with Emily, deciding that it would be healthiest for both if they remained friends rather than anything more, she had declined Winston's request to rejoin Overwatch. She had decided her time being a hero or a villain was over. Despite no longer working for Talon her crimes wouldn’t just be absolved so with Overwatch’s help she had managed to find herself a secluded place to live her life out. Tracer had known just the place she wanted to live.

 

“For someone who can manipulate time you’re awfully late.”

 

“For someone who wants to remain inconspicuous you’re awfully extravagant! Really, a castle?”

 

“Voulez-vous un bisou ou pas ? ”

 

“Yes, please!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations :  
> Pleures-tu - Are you crying  
> Je suis désolé - I am sorry  
> À plus tard Lena - See you later Lena  
> Avez-vous eu un cauchemar - Did you have a nightmare  
> Moi aussi - Me too  
> Voulez-vous un bisou ou pas - Do you want a kiss or not

**Author's Note:**

> This probably won't be longer than a two parter but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless. As always gimme some feedback, I have a general idea how I'll end this but I still love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> Translations :   
>  Nous avons une mission - We have a mission  
>  Faites votre travail et aidez-la - Do your job and help her  
>  S'il vous plaît, allez dormer - Please, just go to sleep


End file.
